


How The Gang Became The Gang

by AgrajagBeta, Hamishmash



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: F/M, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgrajagBeta/pseuds/AgrajagBeta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamishmash/pseuds/Hamishmash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Charlie Kelly and Ronald "Mac" McDonald's high school friendship being rocked by the addition of Dennis Reynolds. Featuring cameos from many Always Sunny characters such as the Aluminium Monster, Fatty Magoo, Psycho Pete and Rickety Cricket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mac and Charlie: Pigeon Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgrajagBeta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgrajagBeta/gifts), [jadinacookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadinacookie/gifts).



> I've credited AgrajagBeta as a co-author even though this is all my writing, because our headcanons about the Gang's pre-Paddy's life were developed together through many lengthy (and painful) Facebook chats. He is currently working of writing up our headcanons about their post-Paddy's life which is equally painful but very different. 
> 
> This is an attempt to keep things mostly in canon with just a little bit of wiggle room. I've rewatched the High School Reunion episodes a number of times and made notes of all the little details the Gang says of their school life. 
> 
> So far this story does not include graphic depictions of sexual violence, but implied descriptions of character backstory is made - if you've watch Always Sunny, you'll know what I'm talking about - Charlie's childhood is talked about. And also... this is the gang we're talking about? Casual racism and gendered slurs abound (and the views of the Gang do NOT reflect the views of the author).
> 
> ALSO - this is my first ever fic so there's that.
> 
> Finally, although we all know the Gang, I think it's fun to remind ourselves how how they'd look in high school. So check out these out adverts starting Rob McElhenney and Charlie Day as reference.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltqssfzVyrw
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2R4PocAwSW0
> 
> Enjoy! I'll try and update every week.

2:31 PM

On a Friday

1997

Philadelphia, PA

 

“Dude, don’t pick at it!”

“It’s a scab. That’s the point of scabs.”

Mac gave Charlie’s hand a short smack and a silent finger of judgement. Charlie’s compromise was to subtly turn the picking into a gentle rubbing - he could enjoy peeling off his crusty knee-wound in peace when he got home.

The bell had just sounded, indicating the end of recess at Saint Joseph’s and the high school students were slowly disappearing into the buildings. Mac and Charlie would be late to class, of course, but the surprise of them being on time would probably disrupt the teacher even more. The two of them had some cleaning up to do.

After being banned from the high school’s official wrestling club for various biting and below the belt related episodes, Mac and Charlie resorted to creating their own. ‘The Pigeon Boys’ was not a name they’d given themselves but just the latest in a long line of remarks flung at them by the other students. When the duo entered the main corridor of the school with torn shirts and bruises on their face, they tended to look decidedly less badass then they’d intended. They looked more homeless then anything and nobody wanted anything to do with them.

“Yo, Pigeon boys!” Adriano Calvanese fired at them. “Want some bread?” A solid roll flew in their direction and knocked Mac in the shoulder. He didn’t even flinch. Mac felt like a bullet had bounced off of his super-human body until a moment later when a passing teacher pointed at the bread on the ground.

“Ronald! Don’t litter!”

“Yes, Dr. Meyers,” he gasped, instantly crouching down and scooping it up, breaking his cool.

“Why do they call us that?” Charlie asked once Mac had disposed of his attacker’s projectile. “I thought you were supposed to be a rat and I was like a grub or something.” 

“Because pigeons are survivors, dude. Think about it. Pigeons are everywhere and how often do you see them dead?”

“I see dead pigeons all the time,” said Charlie in puzzlement. “Like, you just need a half decent rock and you can usually take out one of the females if you chuck it at a family of them.”

“Ones you haven’t killed, Charlie. You’d think for the amount of pigeons in the world you’d be constantly seeing dead pigeons about.”

“Constantly!”

“So that’s what they mean when they call us Pigeon Boys. We get the crap beaten out of us-“

“But we always get back on our feet!”

 

“Mac and Charlie: Pigeon Boys”

 

“Just use the towels!” Charlie shouted above the sound of Mac holding his head underneath the hand dryer. They were trying their best to get themselves together for the last five minutes of class.

“Those things never get you completely dry,” Mac shouted back.

Charlie flicked his hands clean of water in the direction of Mac.

They pair stood beside each other, checking themselves out in the mirror. They looked more or less presentable. The mud and scratches were cleaned up but their clothes were still a little stretched and torn as usual.

“My mom’s gonna think I got beaten up again,” Charlie said.

“You did bro.”

“No but like actually bullied. She basically wants me home schooled. She thinks I’m an at risk individual.”

“She watches way too much Oprah.”

To say Mac and Charlie were unpopular would be inaccurate. Everybody knew who they were, they had about as many friends as anybody else but there was a general understanding that they were not a threat. And when their best friends were known around school as Doo-Doo and Psycho Pete - it was pretty clear they weren't part of any "in" crowd. Charlie would’ve been considered a class clown had his frantic outburst been intentional. “Mac” - which so far only Charlie had been convinced to call him - was mostly known as the lesser of the two main dealers in the school. Mac was who you came to when you were so desperate you didn’t care if what you got was weed or oregano mixed with shredded paper.  
But the amount of desperate kids at the school kept Mac pretty profitable and delusional about his popularity in the school. He was obsessed with maintaining a level of “badassness” and he thought back alley fights with Charlie and permanently maintaining a face with at least two scratches or bruises on, was the best way to do it.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn’t so concerned with reputation or legacy. The end of high school was right around the corner and he prided himself on making it this far. He was a survivor and there are worse ways to survive high school then sticking with your oldest friend - even if you didn’t always approve of some of his methods. And after all - Mac was the Head of the “Freight Train” and Charlie’s blinding respect for the hierarchy overcame any mutinous thoughts.  
In other words, Mac and Charlie, though often dysfunctional, had developed a comfortable way to carry on - which a few years ago would have seemed impossible.

Mac and Charlie walked back through the empty school corridor and toward their English class. But almost the second Mac’s hand touched the handle, the school bell rung again, signalling the end of class.

“Y’know I’m starting to think I should really attend these English classes,” Charlie shrugged. “I didn’t realise, like, everyone else can, like, read n’ shit?”

Mac didn’t respond, instead pushing both of them against the wall as the door flew open and teenagers flooded out. Mac then grabbed Charlie’s wrist and joined the crowd.

“Great class!” Mac said overly loud to everybody could hear over their own chatter. “Gotta love that alphabet!”

Mac’s attempt at retconning his presence in the class may have fooled the other kids (and Charlie somewhat) but it didn’t fool Mr. Romero, who grabbed Mac’s hood and pulled him back into the class, Charlie along with him.

Mac was pushed roughly in front of the teacher’s desk, who didn’t say a word. Mr. Romero just ambled slowly back and forth, his head turned away from them, as he waited for the class to be completely empty. Mac and Charlie, however, were not alone. Stood beside them, also awaiting discipline, was a tall, thin student with longish, curly hair. Mac had dealt him something or other over the years but he never really knew his name. He’d always wished he had, though.

The last student in the class walked out and closed the door. At that remained were the three silent boys and Mr. Romero’s echoing footsteps.

“Mr. McDonald, Mr. Kelly,” he began in an uncomfortably calm voice. “If we wait here an extra minute this will have been the longest you two have spent in my classroom this term. You probably don’t even know what text we’ve been studying.”

Mac threw his hand up but spoke anyway before the teacher could respond. “Oh! The Slutty N’Orleans Chick.”

“A Streetcar Named Desire!”

“See,” Mac pointed at Mr. Romero. “I have read it!”

Mr. Romero put his head in his hands. “And Mr. Kelly. After your disastrous reading comprehension last year, it’s of paramount importance that you attend these classes. Frequently, we’ve contact your mother asking you to take extra English lessons. You have a term left at school - you can’t leave without at least a reading age in the teens.”

Charlie pointed at Mr. Romero but looked at Mac. “Got a point there, dude. How am I going to write of our triumphs if I can’t-“

Mr. Romero slammed a book down on his desk.

“You have to attend these classes, this is not a choice. And if you can’t join them at the normal, designated time like all the other students, then we’ll just have to do them in your lunch breaks.”

Mac and Charlie began to protest.

“The staff knows about your little Fight Club you’ve got going on in the alley.”

“It’s called Pigeon Boys!” Charlie said, as toughly as someone can say “Pigeon Boys”.

“It’s a book! Maybe if you’d attended some classes you would know that. Detention. For the foreseeable future. Until you two have caught up with the rest of the class - which as it stands might be after everyone else has graduated.”

Mac and Charlie remained silent, both of their heads facing the ground. Charlie’s fists were clenched so tight he was hurting himself, his teeth locked together. Mac was looking down so that he could think of a way to get out of this - Charlie was looking down so that nobody could see the faces he was pulling, unable to contain his feelings - equal parts sadness and anger. He tried to calm himself down as Mr. Romero addressed the other student, who had remained still this entire time.

“Now,” Mr. Romero said, having to calm himself down too. “You’ve attended every class, Mr. Reynolds.” Mac's head perked up. He’d heard that name before. It was a name synonymous with the popular kids but he didn’t know for what reason. “And you turn in your work. And its lengthy and on time. But it’s not always what I asked for.”

Reynolds blinked slowly with pride. “But its what you wanted, is it not?”

Mr. Romero seemed visibly disgusted and Mac was watching the exchange like it was a tennis match, his inquisitive face throwing itself back and forth between them. “Dennis, it’s inappropriate. It’s vulgar. The work you’ve been handing in is pornography and as your teacher I just can’t accept it.”

“Thank you,” Dennis said. “Thank you validating what I always thought was true. A lot of great art was described in such terms when it was first unleashed.”

“I asked you to describe Blanche’s feelings about relationships in the context of what we know about her past, not describe, in gory detail, some made up sexual encounter between her and,” Mr. Romero glanced down at Dennis’ essay on his desk. “Dionysius Ronaldo.”

Dennis smiled. “That was meant to be me.”

“I got that. But can’t you see how inappropriate it is for me to accept three pages of writing about one of my students,” He got embarrassed, trying to think of the word. “Sleeping with a fictional character.”

“Now hang on a second,” Dennis started. But he was cut off. Out of nowhere, Charlie flew at Mr. Romero and karate chopped him in the neck. A second blow was directed at his chest. Charlie threw his head back to try and land a head butt on him but Mac, knowing Charlie’s patented “Strike Three” technique, dived in at the last moment and pulled him away. Charlie was ferocious but being in Mac’s arms started to sooth him. Mac made a break for the door, pulling Charlie along with him while Dennis watched on, eyes wide but staying out of it. Mr. Romeo wasn’t hurt, just speechlessly shocked.

Mac and Charlie paced down the corridor, Charlie still fuming. “Why is he even teaching English?” Mac panted. “Isn’t he like Mexican or something?”

Charlie didn’t respond. He was crying. Mac kicked open their bathroom door and took him into a cubicle.


	2. Charlie Gets Analysed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie goes to see the school councillor while Mac and Dennis bond in detention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features the description of implied abuse going on but it contains no descriptions of any sexual acts.

12.30 PM

On a Monday.

1997.

Philadelphia, PA

 

Mac made every attempt at making his entrance to detention as noisy as possible - door kicked open, rucksack thrown on table, chair dragged out with excrusiating lethargy. Dennis watched every step Mac took from his chair by the window. Mr. Romero just watched the act with one raised eyebrow from his desk.

"You're only wasting your own time, Mr. McDonald," he said. "You'll find this terms homework on your desk."

Mac unzipped his bag just as slowly as he'd been doing everything else and took out his pencil case. He was hoping Charlie would be here already as he hadn't seen him all day - surely he didn't get let off detention for attacking a teacher? That's not how these things work?

"Psst," Mac hissed to Dennis. "Yo, dude."

"Just ask him the question, Ronald, and get it over with."

"Wait," Dennis butted in. "Is your name seriously Ronald McDonald?"

"Yeah whatever." Mac brushed aside. "Have you seen my friend Charlie?"

"Why does everybody call you Ronnie the Rat?" Dennis laughed.

"Charlie," Mr. Romero interrupted. "After his hysterical episode has been taken away from this class until such a point where he can control his anger."

"Oh that's probably gonna be a while. I've been trying to do that for years. But the wrestling helps him vent so stopping us from -"

Mr. Romero stood up. "Detention has started, there will be absoloute silence."

And there was - for a few minutes. Mac couldn't concentrate on his work, he looked down and couldn't even seen the words. Had Charlie been suspended? Expelled? Transfered? Why hadn't Charlie told him?

"Psst," Mac hissed again at Dennis. "Yo, dude." Dennis rolled his eyes towards Mac. "What happened after we left? What did they do to Charlie?"

Dennis glanced at Mr. Romero, head down in some marking. "That dude's got problems."

"So would you if," Mac stopped. "He's weird but he's cool. You know what Romero did - tell me!"

"Chill out dude." Dennis whispered. "He's fine. He's just seeing the school counciller. It's not a big deal, he should count himself lucky he didn't get kicked out."

But Mac didn't chill out. Instead, his eyes turned dark, his brow arched in panic as he stared into the middle distance. "Oh shit."

 

“Charlie Gets Analysed”

 

"Are you gonna make me talk about my father?" Charlie asked, lying sideways on a chair that, while soft, was definitely not a coach. "That's what you guys always ask in movies."

"Would you like to talk about you father?" asked a woman who'd insisted on Charlie calling her by her first name, Erykah.

"Would love to! Too bad I dunno who he is!"

"I didn't know my father either, Charlie."

This caught Charlie off guard. "Oh," he said, staring up at the ceiling fan. There was a silence. Charlie knew Erykah was waiting for him to begin talking but just lying back and listening to the gentle, cluttered sound of the blinds being blown in the breeze was making him calmer than he had been in a long time. Charlie heard a car beep just far away enough that it sounded sweet. Someone was calling their friend "Michael!" on the other end of the playground. Charlie looked at Erykah. She'd been talking. Charlie nodded. "Yeah".

Erykah seemed amused by this. Charlie didn't know why. "Why do you think you tried to hurt Mr. Romero?"

Charlie hadn't thought about it. Why didn't she understand why he did it? It wasn't his job to explain why he did it. "At the time," he began, frowning heavily in thought. "I thought it'd make me feel better. But it didn't."

"And why weren't you feeling good?"

"I was being told off."

"Some children get upset when they're told off or they get embarrassed or they are apathetic. Why do you think you get angry?"

"Because I hadn't done anything wrong."

"You skipped class."

"Yeah," Charlie said. He was trying to read the names of the books on her shelf. There was a red one with 'Charlie' written on it. It took a split second for him to realise that was an authors name and it made Charlie chuckle. WHY WAS HE FUCKING HERE!? A motorbike drove past the school.

"How does Ronald make you feel?" Erykah asked.

"What?" Charlie's tone was agressive. How dare she ask that? What does she know? Who had she spoken to?

"He's your friend, isn't he?" Erykah she asked nicely. "If Mr. Romero makes you feel angry, how does Ronald make you feel?"

Mac was yellow. Mac was big. Mac was a hug and a smile and the eye of the storm. Charlie rolled over in his chair so he didn't have to look at the woman. HOW FUCKING DARE SHE?? Mac was a father or a brother but he wasn't either - he was the sun. Erykah asked if Charlie was ok but he didn't respond. Mac was holding him. He'd just rang him. Snot was pouring down from Charlie's nose and he was feeling sweaty and it was 4am. He was hurt physically. But Mac was here. And now he knew he could sleep. An icy hand touched Charlie's shoulder and he bolted out of the chair.

Erykah was stood over him. Charlie was in the councillor's room - why did this surprise him?

"Does Ronald make you feel bad?" Erykah asked, clearly concerned by Charlie's strange silence.

"Mac's the only thing that makes me feel good."

Erykah sat down. "Mac," she repeated as she wrote a note. "And the world makes you feel bad?"

"I thought everyone was like this. I didn't think people ever got happy. At least not someone like me - I'm not the type of person to be allowed to be happy. But I wasn't sad, I just wasn't happy."

"And Mac makes you happy?"

"Well," Charlie scoffed. "He's my best friend, of course he makes me happy."

"Charlie", the tone had shifted. "Is there something in your life that you feel you can't talk about? Nothing leaves this room. I am not in communication with your mother. But if there's something bad happening at home, you can tell me."

Charlie could see two roads. There was a road where he said it. A road of problems. He'd tell this woman he'd just met something he couldn't even say to himself when he was alone. And everything would change. Where would he live? What would happen to his mother? What would happen to Mac? And there was another road - a downhill road he was already finding himself trudging down. One where everything, the good and the bad, stayed the same. The fear of loosing everything was not worth the relief of saying the words.

The night Mac worked it all out flashed through his mind. A joke too far - a question too many. Charlie and Mac, friends since they were old enough to make friends, were shooting ducks on Charlie's computer game at his house. And it was late - late for children at least - and Mac had assumed he was staying over. Mac had always slept in his room and he'd brought his sleeping bag. But there was a figure on the stairs, waiting for the games to finish. And Mac felt the silence in the house - the silence from he mother, from the figure but most of all from Charlie. Mac watched Charlie, transfixed by the action of the screen, avoiding the gaze of even his own mother.

"You boys will get square eyes now," Charlie's mother had said. "You can play it in the morning."

For once she was right, Mac thought. But Charlie ignored her. Continuing the game, continuing the day, putting off night ever coming.

The figure took another step down the stairs impatiently.

"You're keeping your uncle up," Charlie's mother insisted. Charlie reacted to this sentence by widening his eyes even further, the time between his blinks becoming inhuman.

They were brushing their teeth. Charlie couldn't remember how they went from being downstairs to being mere metres from the bedroom where the dark figure had relocated. Charlie had barely said a word since nightfall. He'd shut off. He seemed robotic, as if his soul was piloting him from a short distance. Mac broke the silence. "Dude," he started saying, AS IF THINGS WERE NORMAL.

Charlie's hands attacked his hair. His fingers began twisting wildly, like they were trying to break each other.

"Charlie," Mac said worriedly, grabbing his friend by the arm. "What the hell dude?"

"Run home now!"

Mac did what he was told - the first and last time he ran away from Charlie. On his journey home, cursing to himself and trying to figure out why his best friend had just kicked him out of a sleepover at the eleventh hour, the only image in his head was that of the figure stood waiting in the doorway of Charlie's room. And tossing and turning in his own bed that night, Mac pieced it all together. And Mac came to Charlie and took that more difficult road.

But even knowing how Mac had taken that step on the more difficult road to a safer place, Charlie couldn't stop falling down the easier route.

"No," Charlie muttered to Erykah. "There's nothing going on at home."


	3. The Gang Sleeps Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gang begins to form - as Dennis hosts a party and Charlie and Mac are his only guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a slow burner. It's more about the detail of their dynamic blossoming. But future chapters... things will begin to get more exciting.

_8.05 AM._

_On a Friday._

_1997._

_Philadelphia, PA._

 

"Hey!" Charlie's voice echoed across the school playground. A few people turned around, none of which being the person it was aimed at. Charlie dashed up to Mac and grabbed his shoulder.

"Oh, hey Charlie," Mac sighed. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Charlie trailed off. This isn't how he'd expecting reuniting with his best friend, whom he hadn't spoken to for a week, to go - something was off. "Hey, so," Charlie put his hands in his pockets. "I'm done with the counsellor. I should be coming to detention with you today which'll be cool. Well, not cool but - "

"I'm gonna level with you Charlie," Mac interrupted. They were on the steps leading up to the main entrance, Mac having the higher ground. "It's not that I don't wanna be seen with you, it's just that I don't want to be associated with you in a visual sense."

"What?"

"Look," he leaned his head to the side and stepped down. "You're my best buddy - but right now, I've got an in with one of the popular kids."

"The popular kids? The kids who call us dirtgrub and make us eat dirt and say we live in the dirt part of town?”

"Yeah!" Mac smiled. "And I'm not saying we should become like then but think about business? Y'know - Dooley and Pete, great guys."

"Great guys!"

“But it’s freeloaders like them that we have to start cutting out. I need to start getting more customers who actually have money.”

Charlie frowned. "You wanna get popular so you can sell weed for more money?”

"Yes. And also because I don't want to be called Ronnie the Rat anymore. It's insulting."

"And inaccurate. You're more of a weasel then a rat. Rat's are determined creatures, very honourable - "

"Ok," Mac closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just didn't want you to think it was anything personal that I didn't wanna be seen as your friend anymore." Mac continued to walk into the school.

"W-wait hang on a second," Charlie said, reaching his arm out. "You think you can't be popular because you're friends with me?"

Mac looked out at the playground in bewilderment. "Yeah?" 

“Dude without me, you’ll be at the bottom of the popular pile! They’ll treat you like shit. If I come along then you still won’t be at the bottom.”

Mac was puzzled. “You want to get in on this just so I look better by comparison?”

“Yeah?” 

What Charlie wanted to say was that he’d degrade himself to any level if it meant not loosing his friend. 

Mac turned his head to a figure Charlie hadn’t spotted walking with him.

“Yo Dennis,” Mac shouted. The figure spun their head to Mac with mathematical precision. “Can Charlie tag along tonight?”

Dennis’ forced lack of expression ironically told Charlie everything going through his mind. “Of course,” he said with a slow blink.

“Tag along where?” asked Charlie.

 

_“The Gang Sleeps Over"_

 

"Be nice to Mr and Mrs Reynolds," Bonnie Kelly chirped from the rolled down window of her car. “Please don’t be rowdy you two.”

"We will Mrs. Kelly!" Mac chirped back in an identical tone. "You don't need to worry about us."

She smiled and blew a kiss at the pair of them before driving off. Mac and Charlie turned around to see the Reynolds mansion - huge, white and oddly bleak. Mac gave a long intake of air and grinned widely into the dusk. "Smell that, Charlie?" he said. "That's the smell of going up in the world." 

Charlie continued to keep quiet, as he had the whole car journey and the pair trudged up through the gravel to the front door, backpacks and sleeping bags in hands. Mac seemed desperate to add ceremony to the evening, so took his time reaching out to the door bell and pressing it gently. They heard the ringing through the door and the flat footsteps of a man. Then - the sound of someone running to push them out of the way and a swine-like grunt. There was a murmur of disagreement and Mac and Charlie began to worry that they'd already made some sort of etiquette faux pas. A silence - and finally the door calmly opened to reveal Dennis. 

He was wearing an ironed, collared shirt and proper shoes - Mac felt very underdressed while Charlie didn't notice.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Dennis said in a voice which wasn't his own. "I trust you had a pleasant trip."

"We live two streets away," Charlie laughed. 

"Then it wasn't too long, splendid!" 

Dennis returned back into the light of the house, beckoning to his guests. 

"Is he trying to sound British?" Charlie whispered under his breath. Mac pulled a cross face to tell Charlie this wasn't the time to make jokes. 

They arrived into the most elaborate reception room either of them had ever been to. There was a chandelier illuminating gold-framed mirrors, a marble staircase and all manner of potted plants and trinkets. Was this really a home? A place where people slept and took shits and had sex? Charlie didn't know what Buckingham Palace looked like but he couldn't imagine it'd be much worse then this.

"Give your bags to my mom," Dennis said, dropping the attempted accent. A spindly woman with huge hair appeared beside them and took their things. 

"Thank you Mrs Reynolds," Mac said as politely as Mrs Kelly had told him to.

"Not at all!" She smirked and Mac could have sworn she winked at him. 

Charlie meanwhile was fixated on the other person in the room - Dennis' father. Charlie was rarely taller than anybody, let alone an adult.  Mr Reynolds stood staring at the two of them as if he was waiting for them to strike. He was balding, bespectacled and looking very out of place in the lavish entrance hall. 

"What the hell you lookin' at?" the man spat. Charlie flinched. His mother wouldn't be happy. He mumbled an apology and sheepishly hid behind Mac who was following Mrs Reynolds up the stairs, almost in a trance. Dennis interrupted. 

"Guys, how about we go through to the kitchen, we've got nibbles and stuff to keep us going until dinner." 

The evening continued in a similar fashion - Mac in awe of everything, Charlie treading on eggshells, Dennis lapping up the attention. Mrs Reynolds enchanted Mac. She was just like Dennis - fierce, direct, classy. But she was a woman! She was a million miles away from Mr Reynolds whom Charlie was fixated on. Since their slightly stern first interaction, the pair had occasionally cracked a smile out of the other with their very obvious sarcastic quips. Mr Reynolds had found in Charlie someone who equally wished they weren’t there. 

After a meal cooked to perfection it was time for bed. Mr and Mrs Reynolds headed in opposite directions along the landing while Mac and Charlie entered Dennis' room. 

Charlie almost jumped with fright as the lights came on and he found himself staring into the eyes of a Pamela Anderson poster. Dennis instinctively headed for his own bed, hoping over a single mattress which had been placed beside it. Mac jumped onto said mattress and felt it for firmness.

“Sweet room, bro,” Mac complimented. 

“It used to be my sisters until I told my mom I wanted it,” Dennis said.

Charlie expected there to be more to that anecdote and would have asked further had he not been scanning the room for his own bed. Finally he spotted his bag, placed next to a scattering of pillows clearly collected from the sofas of the house. Charlie looked over to Dennis and Mac to complain but saw them laughing about a joke he’d missed. He decided to make do and just began laughing nervously as if he’d heard their conversation. When Dennis spotted him laughing, he stopped. Charlie wondered if he’d done something wrong - why were people so difficult?

Dennis leapt out of bed and towards a cabinet that Charlie assumed contained clothes. However, when it was opened it was revealed to be a large, black, square television and a shelf of video boxes inside. Mac’s jaw dropped.

“You’ve got a TV in your room?” Mac gushed. “IN a closet!?”

Dennis smugly took a remote from the shelf and switched it on. Mac jumped for his bag. 

“I brought all my videos!” He said, rummaging around.

“All of them?’ Dennis said in disbelief. 

“Yeah! Predator 1 and 2 and,” Mac paused for dramatic effect. “Judgement Day. T2!” He proudly aimed the video box's spine at Dennis.

“You own three videos?”

“I know! I'm pretty lucky -Predator 2 makes up for what it lacks in Arnold, with in-his-prime Danny Glover.”

Dennis simply laughed. Who WAS this fool? “Not only do I own all of those films myself,” Dennis began. “But they are completely inappropriate for a men’s sleepover. Do the Predators even have any women in them?”

“If you squint,” Charlie butted in. “The predator can look a bit like a woman with the long hair and the fish nets and stuff”

“Judgement Day has Linda Hamilton?” Mac said, ignoring Charlie. He was knelt down by his bag, looking up at Dennis with sad eyes.

“I’m not a lesbian, Mac,” Dennis replied. “No. What I have in mind is something far more suitable for a gentlemen’s evening.” He revealed from his shelf an unlabelled cassette. “This my friends is a French film. And I have heard tell that it contains some tasteful side boob."

"What's a side boob?" Charlie asked, imagining a nipple hanging out of a armpit. 

Dennis pushed the video in the recorder. "Watch a learn, kiddo."

Dennis and Mac sat side-by-side on Dennis’ bed. There was room for Charlie but he chose to sit on the floor, leaning up beside their dangling feet. 

The film began - a man in a thin, grey suit was dashing through Paris, avoiding taxis. A woman with red lipstick caught his arm and whispered something into his ear. It was subtitled.

“Ah,” Mac began, destroying the atmosphere for Dennis. “Charlie, she’s saying that the dude isn’t gonna make it in time.” 

Dennis stared at Mac as if he’d just told him Santa isn't real. And he continued: "Okay so now he's telling her that he still has to try."

Charlie gave Mac a silent thumbs up from the floor. Dennis was still horrified. "You don't need to tell him what they're saying - that's what subtitles are for."

Charlie felt his back and shoulders lock in embarrassment. His head slowly sank into his knees and he didn't respond. He got very hot and starred straight at the screen and the words flashing up at lighting speed at the bottom. 'The', he read. And then 'Chocolate' he guessed but mostly because he heard the French would which sounded similar.

Mac quietened down and leant into Dennis. "Charlie doesn't do too great at the whole reading thing."

"He can't read?" Dennis said, unsympathetically loudly.

"Nah he can read, subtitles just go a bit fast for him."

"Just look at the gorgeous people, Charlie," Dennis said, trying very badly to be comforting. "Who cares what that woman's talking about, she's hot."

Charlie nodded silently. Mac could tell he was very uncomfortable and embarrassed. But a few scenes passed. And there was more dialogue. And Charlie tried to follow but things were getting more complex and intricate and even Mac and Dennis were loosing track of it a bit. That was until the female lead was caught in her bedroom completely topless.

Charlie was half woken out of a daze when it happened by the cheering of Mac and Dennis.

"You said it'd just be side boob!" Mac said in a high pitched shriek. 

"I've never been happier to be wrong!"

The excited commotion was so much that Charlie found himself suddenly in the corridor outside of Dennis' room. He'd managed to slip out somehow without being noticed. Charlie crept down the landing, enjoying the feeling of the Reynold's plush carpet on his feet. It was dark but he wasn't blind - the reflection of moonlight on the various picture frames and vases and porcelain statues dotted around gave him his bearings. And there was another light coming from the crack underneath a closed door on the opposite wall. It wasn't the room either of Dennis' parents had gone into. Charlie slunk up to it but just as he got close, a floorboard underneath the carpet lurched loudly and he froze. 

"Don't you dare, Dennis!" A furious voice echoed out of the room. Charlie remained petrified on the spot. "Don't think I wasn't expecting you and your friends to come and attack me in the night! I've got a hockey stick by the bed and I'm not afraid to use it!'

"It's just me!" Charlie whispered.

"Whose 'me'?"

"Charlie. They're watching a film and I got bored so I wanted to have a look around - I'm not planning anything!"

There was a pause. And then the door creaked open. Charlie could see through the crack the glimpse of a girl but she was hiding her face. "Why should I believe they didn't send you over here?" 

"Because they just saw some boobs in a movie and I think they'll be paralysed for a good few weeks."

"What are you, gay?" she said back. 

"What? No! I just don't get that excited by some random tits. They're just tits!"

The door opened wider, revealing Dennis' sister. She was tall, slim and wearing full collared pyjamas but the most noticeable thing about her was that her head was encased in a metal frame that ran down her back. Charlie knew better than to point this out to her - it was pretty clear she was aware of it.

"What do you want?" she said, less aggressively then before.

"I just wanna hang out with someone. That's why I came to this party." 

She beckoned Charlie into the room and he shyly followed. Laid out on her bed were several open books and pads of paper. There were soft toys and posters and clothes all over the floor. Charlie had never been in a girl's bedroom before.

"My name's Deandra," the girl said through her back brace. " What's yours?"

"Charlie. Why weren't you at dinner?"

"Dennis didn't want me there. Neither did my mom actually. Dad brought me my food afterwards." Charlie starred at her worridly. "Oh no, its fine! I don't mind. Dennis didn't mention you coming though. He only asked to have one friend over."

"I'm more Mac's friend, to be honest. I don't think I should have come."

"You can be my friend," Deandra blurted out. "I mean - my mom doesn't let me have friends around. I once had Ingrid and Mathew around and he had a fit and she blocked a toilet. That was my Sweet 16."

"How old are you now?"

"18. Same as Dennis - we're twins."

"Oh you," Charlie squinted at her face. "You look -"

"You don't have to say it. I don't care about having any resemblance to him or any of my family." Deandra then sat on her bed and picked up a hand mirror. She looked at herself, avoiding the metal frames on her shoulders. "I'm going to get surgery as soon as we graduate. My mom's always pointing out my nose and eyes to me. And my mouth too. I'm thinking of going brunette, what do you think?"

Charlie didn't know what to say - he didn't really have an opinion. But he shyly made a face to say 'I think you look fine as you are' but didn't say the words. Instead he sat down next to her and casually picked up one of the notebooks on her bed as if it was a magazine in a doctor's waiting room. Before he could even look at them, she snatched it away.

"Do you mind?" she said, holding the book to her chest. 'That's my diary."

"I couldn't read," Charlie began, stopping himself. 'I mean I wasn't going to read it. I can't believe you keep a diary! That's really impressive." They both sat on the bed, staring at the carpet in silence for a brief moment before Deandra lowered the book from her chest.

"Would you like to hear some of it?"

 

\- o -

 

Charlie hadn't known how long had passed since he left Dennis' room but it was far longer than a bathroom break. He'd have to say he'd got sick or that he'd gotten lost. Saying that he'd just spent a good portion of the evening listening to his sister's heartfelt diary entires might not go down so well, especially seeing as he'd requested her absence from the party so far.

Charlie tiptoed up to Dennis' door and listened in - silence. Perhaps the film had stopped and they were asleep. Had he been gone that long? Charlie took the door handle and turned it as quietly as he could. 

As the door opened, it creaked like a thunderclap. In the gloom of the bedroom, illuminated by the glow of the television, Charlie saw Mac make a frantic movement on Dennis' bed. As Charlie's vision adjusted to the light in the room, he could make out Mac holding a pillow to himself.

"Oh!" Mac greeted him overly enthusiastically. "Hey Charlie!"

Beside the startled Mac, Dennis was sat, just as he was before, and was staring straight into Charlie's eyes without losing contact. However, Dennis was rubbing a tissue over his bare, toned stomach, which was poking out from his half-lifted shirt. Dennis scrunched up the tissue and threw it into a bedside bit as if he was dunking a basketball. Charlie took a step into the room and saw on the tv screen the same scene he had left during, with the topless woman, only it was paused. While Charlie was distracted with the television, Mac threw the pillow away and rebuckled his belt. 

"What were you guys - " 

"Having fun with my sister, were you Charlie?" Dennis interrupted. "You can have her if you want, nobody else wants her." 

Dennis and Mac laughed. What did he even mean? What? That hadn't even crossed Charlie's mind and now he was wondering if he'd done anything to suggest that to her. Charlie glumly sat down on his pile of cushions and pulled the blanket over himself while Mac and Dennis continued talking and laughing. The tv was switched off, Mac went to his mattress and the room was dark. 

In the darkness, the three of them continued to talk - never quite knowing which of them was making the final statement. But eventually Mac nodded off and then Dennis did soon after. And Charlie lay awake, eyes open. And despite the uncomfortableness earlier on, the embarrassment he'd faced and the low, dull ache in his chest whenever he caught Mac and Dennis making each other laugh without him - Charlie felt safe. Safe in a very literal sense. But why couldn't he sleep?

With his eyes now adjusted, he looked over at the snoring Mac. He'd appeared to have removed his shirt since getting into bed and had spread himself so that his entire bare chest was in view of Dennis. In fact, Charlie had noticed that Mac had only taken off his shirt when Dennis had. _People are weird_ , he thought. He'd never quite understand how you were supposed to interact with people but at least with Mac he'd never judged or questioned the ways in which Charlie had. And visa versa. Charlie was very aware at this point, that Mac might have some other reason for wanting to spend time with Dennis other than it making "business sense". Dennis wasn't ugly, as far as Charlie could tell. Not really Mac's type (or the type Charlie assumed Mac was into) but a handsome guy objectively. Charlie had often had little daydreams about Mac and him in the future. They'd be free from their families, building families of their own. And he'd always envisioned Mac sleeping, cradled in the giant arms of Jean Claude Van Damme type. He'd never told Mac he'd had these thoughts - he knew Mac was a year or two from coming out and accepting himself. 

But a worry Charlie had was that Mac's seemingly desperate need for acceptance by the popular, cool, 'normal' kids would set him back a few years on his own personal development. FUCK, Charlie caught himself speaking exactly how Erykah, his counsellor, had. You don't analyse your friends! Stop trying to make everybody better, it isn't your responsibility.

Charlie could see Mac blurring before his eyes - was this sleep? Charlie knew Mac like he was an aspect of himself but his behaviour, his motives these last weeks had been so warped that he felt like he was loosing him.

Charlie snapped out of it again - this is the kind of overthinking you always do when you can't sleep. It was then that he decided to tell his brain to sleep and by some miracle it worked. Things would be better in the morning. Things would be better when the sun came up. Things always were. 


	4. Mac Breaks Charlie's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On today's trip to Feeladelphia - Mac says something he really shouldn't have (and other stabs to the heart).

_10.15 AM._

_On a Tuesday._

_1997._

_Philadelphia, PA._

 

"Charlie? Why do you think you've come back here?"

Charlie thought for a moment, reclining once again in Erykah's breezy office. She was sat, cross-legged and smiling subtly. 

"I'm scared I'm gonna hit someone again," Charlie said after a brief pause. Erykah put her notebook down and un-crossed her legs. She wasn't expecting Charlie to be so honest so soon.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm just," he scrunched his face up. "I'm angry all of the time. And really little things get me angry."

"Like what?"

Images of Dennis Reynolds flashed through Charlie's mind like street lamps through a rainy windshield - Dennis laughing with Mac, Dennis sitting next to Mac at lunch, Dennis forgetting Charlie was there - all blurring together into an awful, aching vision. "Just little things," Charlie said. "I dunno."

"I had your friend in here with me yesterday," Erykah said. "Peter?"

Charlie gave a look of confusion.

"Psycho Pete?" Erykah sighed.

"Oh - Psycho Pete! He's a good guy."

"Yes, he's a lovely person and he doesn't actually like that nickname."

"Well," Charlie reclined back down. "I don't like dirtgrub but it doesn't stop those jackasses from calling me that." 

"Is it the popular kids that make you feel most angry?"

"Yes," Charlie admitted after a pause. "My best friend's been hanging out with one more and more and he's such a jerk."

"Have you communicated these feelings to your friend?"

"I don't see him anymore. I'm always here and in class he's always sitting next to him before I get there. We didn't even used to go to class, now he's obsessed. It's Dennis this, Dennis that. Everything I ever say he'll tell me something Dennis said that was better. I think he's -" Charlie broke himself off, realising where his thoughts were taking him. As much as Mac was pissing him off recently, he wasn't prepared to out him to the school counsellor. "I think he likes him more than me."

"Do you have many friends?"

"Loads," Charle said, racking his brain for faces. "Well, there's Pete. He's always a laugh but I don't see him in school much these days. Dooley! But he's been gettin weird lately. Always writing poems? I don't get it. Oh - Jamie Nelson! But - he's hanging out with the skaters now. He's more Mac's friend anyway."

"But none of them are like Mac?"

Would Pete have ever run all the way to Charlie's house in the middle of the night to calm him down? Would Dooley had ever let him stay at his no matter when or for what reason, no matter what state he was in or what little he had on him? Would Jamie had ever cradled his shaking, sobbing body all through the night, never leaving him for a minute, let him boring his clothes the next day, walked him back to his house? NO. But then Mac - would he do any of that anymore? Had they become too old for genuine empathy? Apathy, after all, was one of the defining characteristics of the popular kids and since Mac had started being friends with Dennis, he could see Mac's ability to care for things slipping. Even his action movies were now  _'derivative nonsense that adds nothing to the genre',_ according to Dennis. _  
_

Charlie fell in on himself, bunching up into a ball and tears began to fill his eyes. Why had this FUCKING IDIOT COME ALONG AND RUINED EVERYTHING? Charlie pulled on his hair and rocked back and forth. Dennis had become, in his mind, this faceless figure. This presence that ruined every happy memory. And what had even done? Nothing! He'd just had them for a sleepover and was keeping Mac company. People can have more than one friend right? But Mac was his. Charlie felt so, so alone even though on the surface all that happened was that he'd gained a friend. WHY WAS HE SO WEIRD? Why couldn't Charlie deal with something so normal? Charlie felt a hand touch the back of his head and he jumped. It was Erykah, sat beside his chair.

Erykah leaned in closer. "Charlie," she began in a soft voice. "High school and graduation is a difficult time. People truly become adults here and they do it at different speeds. It's possible that your friend's new friend offers him a more mature friendship than you do. But this isn't a problem - you just need to let him know how it's making you feel. If he is your best friend, it's almost certain he's not meaning to do this to you and if you just let him know, I'm sure he'll let you be part of this bigger friend group. Honesty, between friends, is a big part of being a grownup."

Charlie sniffed and wiped away a tear. 

"Ok," Charlie said, smiling through his red, puffy face. "I know Mac would never intentionally do anything to hurt me."

 

_“Mac Breaks Charlie's Heart"_

 "Ewww! Dude! Nobody wants to see that?"

"Put it away."

"Seriously," Dennis said, chuckling unlike the rest of the table, but still sternly. "We're eating."

Mac closed his mouth, hiding the mashed up food he was presenting to the rest of the popular kids table. Adriano was staring at him disapprovingly (but he sort of looked at everyone that way) while Bill, Maureen and Nikki just shrugged his attempts at humour off. _Charlie would have dug it_ , Mac thought.

"So Ronald," Nikki chirped, breaking the awkward air. "What are you gonna do after graduation?"

"Well," Mac said slightly too loudly. "What aren't I gonna do? My mom just dug out the all video camera and I'm thinking of trying make a showreel."

"Oh are you an actor?" Maureen perked up.

"I absolutely see myself as an actor - although I prefer the term pyrotechnics and artificial physicality performer."

Dennis held out a hand. "He means stuntman. He wants to be a stuntman."

"I take it," Adrianao smirked. "They don't have a stunt course at Harvard, do they?"

The table laughed, Mac not knowing whether to join in so just sat with his wide eyes darting from person to person and half-smiling.

"Well, I'm thinking of going straight into the business - I'm not gonna let this body get static and flabby at college when I'm in prime right now." 

Bill almost spat out his cola and Maureen hid her face in his shoulder so as not to show how red she'd gotten trying not to laugh. Nikki was keeping her cool, more less, as she continued to ask: "And what are you back up plans if you don't make it as a... pyrotechnics performer."

"Oh, I think overthinking your plan b can mess up your plan a," Mac recited, forgetting who had told him that. "But I'd be interested in getting into other physical activities like bodyguard, bouncing, assassin - that kinda thing."

"Oh really!" Nikki said, in a obviously patronising tone. "That's so interesting."

"What the hell, Dennis?" Bill spoke up. "Where did you find this guy?"

Mac's wide, worried little eyes shot to Dennis. "Guys, chill. Mac's a good kid."

"Mac?" said Adriano. "I thought your named was Ronnie?"

"I'm trying something new," Mac responded quickly and seriously.

"Aren't we all?" Adriano said, staring into Dennis eyes despite him not meeting them. Adriano fluttered his eyebrows up and down and Dennis blushed nervously. "Not you're usual cup of-"

"Give it a rest, Adriano," Dennis cut him off.

"Yeah leave him alone," Maureen wined. "I think it's cute."

"I'm not judging," Adriano said, holding his hands up in innocence. "To each his own."

Mac was so confused. He felt like he'd turned two pages at once. What had he missed? "Do you introduce them to a lot of guys?" Mac asked.

"It's not usually guys," Adriano said, taking a sip of his can. 

 

\- o -

 

Charlie ran his hands down his face, stretching the skin and making sure his cheeks were dry of the morning's tears. He then stepped out into the cafeteria. He scanned the room for the reflection of light on slicked back hair - the tell tail sign of where Mac was sitting. But he couldn't spot him. 

Charlie took a tray and got himself a lunch of lasagne and a bowl of jello and walked back into the room. Through the hustle and bustle, Charlie spotted Mac. He was sat with the popular kids but there was one space free. Charlie swallowed, remembered Erykah's works and marched forward. 

His mouth was open and a "Hey!" was crawling up his throat and ready to say when he was interrupted. Someone was sat in his seat. 

"Tim!" Adriano announced.

"Hey guys! Dennis, Nikki, Ponderosas!" Tim looked down at the startled Mac and held out a hand for him to shake. "Tim Murphy."

"Mac."

"Nice!"

Mac smiled, perhaps the first genuine smile of lunch.

Charlie was frozen. The "Hey" had fallen back down inside him. He tried bringing it out again but only weak pockets of air left his mouth. It was time to go. He was now just standing by a table of people who hadn't noticed him. But the moment Charlie spun on the spot to remove himself, Mac spotted him and read the turn as an intentional blanking. So what if he blanked him? He didn't have any power here. He's just jealous Mac wasn't his whole world anymore, he thought. But Mac hoped he was ok.

Charlie paced through the cafeteria - head down, shapes passing him left and right. He wasn't aware of space or people or what he was holding but out of the chaos -  "Hey!"

Was that him? Had it finally come out of his mouth. Charlie looked over his shoulder and saw a familiar face beckoning him over. 

"Come have lunch with us," Deandra called. 

Charlie trod slowly and shyly like a wild animal approaching a hand of feed to her table. 

"Everyone, Charlie - Charlie, everyone."

The three others at the table made grunts of acknowledgement as Deandra moved along on her side to give Charlie some room.

"This is Ingrid! We're inseparable!" Deandra began, taking Ingrid by the shoulders and vibrating her, causing her glasses to fall off her nose after which she pushed them back up in a panic. "Brad Fisher," she continued, Brad giving a weak smile at Charlie, hiding his spotty face behind a low fringe. "And Matthew. We're in physical therapy together!" Matthew waved, weakly.

Where had Charlie found himself? Was this the school freak show or what?

"Charlie's seeing the school counsellor. She thinks he has anger management issues and dyslexia among other problems." Charlie was offended about about to call Deandra out on mentioning these private details until he noticed how much more interested everyone on the table appeared in him after finding this out.

"Do you have Erykah?" Ingrid asked.

"Yeah," Charlie responded.

"Oh my god, isn't she the nicest? She always knows how to make me feel! No matter what I wear, my mom will say it looks awful on me and people in the school call me really mean things but she always," Ingrid paused. "She doesn't tell me it's not true? She's honest. She tells me it's just not important. That I'm so much more than their comments. I'm sorry! I'm gushing," Ingrid fell back into herself a bit, apologetically.

"She's good, yeah," Charlie reassured, but he was distracted. He was still looking over at Mac's table where they were laughing again. Why were they always laughing? Mac was laughing more than when they used to hang out... In fact Charlie couldn't remember them really having that sort of friendship.

"Well do you?" 

Charlie blinked, bringing himself back to his own table. "Do I what?"

"Have anger issues and dyslexia?"

"I dunno. Maybe. It's kinda nice knowing there's a name for what you have."

"Oh my god I know! I didn't know binge eating was a medical term. But she gave me all sorts of books. And she's given me such a different view of food. Like today, I'm having a desert and I'm going to eat it piece by piece and really really enjoy every mouthful to its fullest. The truth is I don't eat because I like food, I hate food. Food has ruined my life. And she's helping me love it again!" Ingrid once again retreated into silence.

"Foods good," Charlie said, almost on autopilot. He then perked up as quickly as a cat spotting a mouse. Mac, Dennis and the popular table were standing up. They were leaving. He was about to miss Mac again, for good. They'd get to the next class, sit together and that'd be another day where he hadn't even said a word to his best friend. Well it ended now!

Charlie launched himself from the table and matched the speed at which the popular kids were leaving. Charlie pushed passed people to try and make it to them in time but they'd already made their way into the corridor. Charlie increased speed - he wasn't gonna lose them. He was going to confront them. He was gonna be honest, tell Mac everything he was feeling. He had nothing to lose - he didn't have any other friend other than Mac and in his head, Mac was already lost. Charlie pushed the cafeteria doors open. 

But meeting him on the other side of the door into the corridor wasn't the popular kids, who were already nearly outside in the playground by then, but a girl. She had short dark hair, colourful earrings and small, pretty smile. Of course, these were details about her Charlie noticed after they'd picked themselves off the floor, having bumped straight into each other. The girl helped Charlie up. 

"S-Sorry!" Charlie said, running his fingers through his hair.

"No problem! Now get going."

Had Charlie already upset her?

"You're in a hurry right? I won't keep ya," she said. And walked off. And Charlie's heart hurt. And he didn't know why. 

He sped up, still looking back at where she had been. He arrived in the playground and found the kids lying about on a grassy verge. Dennis and Mac were lying beside each other, backpacks as pillows. 

Mac felt a chill pass over him. Charlie was stood above him, his shadow cast over his slowly stirring body. "Hey," Mac said, slightly confused. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Charlie mocked. "What's up? Where the hell have you been?"

"Chill out. That's what I've been doing."

"I won't chill out, Mac. I won't. I didn't do anything. And you don't even act like I exist."

'You the one who blanked me at lunch!"

"I didn't mean-" Charlie stopped, realising the volume of his voice had caused the rest of the popular kids to sit up and watch the drama unfolding. "Fucking forget it, man." 

Charlie rolled his head onto his shoulder and trudged into an passageway by the grass. 

"What the hell was that about?" Nikki asked. Dennis stayed silent but he gave a nod to Mac, telling him it was ok to follow him. Mac stood up, dusted grass off his ass and took to the passageway as well.

"Trouble with the ex," Adriano joked. "Mac's got baggage, Dennis. D'you think you can handle it?"

Dennis pulled a handful of grass out from his crossed legs and threw it Adriano. This wasn't as good a retaliation as he'd hoped. 

  
\- o -

 

In the gloom of the passageway, void of any sunlight, Charlie raged. His fingers scrapped along the bricks and he tried to punch it but was too scared. He hit his head softly against the wall, regretting ever getting out of bed this morning.

"Dude," the soft voice that had in the past been his old reassurance, echoed down the alley. Charlie looked up to see Mac, brightly illuminated by the day as Charlie lurked still in the shadows.

"Go away."

"No dude. Not this time, not ever."

"We've grown up. I don't need you," Charlie sniffed. "Having to make me feel better. I can make myself feel better. I don't need you!"

"I don't want you to need me. I need you to want me."

"Shut the fuck up," Charlie walked further into the passageway, drawing Mac with him.

"Ok I will," Mac was now pointing at him. "But don't come crying to me ever again. You always fucking do this, Charlie. You always want it to be all about you. The things I've put up with for you, the things I've had to listen to and the second I give someone else any attention you-"

"The things you've had to listen to?" Charlie was shouting now. "Listen to? Try fucking being there you asshole! D'you think what I went through his all smiles and rainbows and sunshine! It was the worst time of my life and telling you was the only good thing! The only relief!"

"My dad is in prison! I've not had it so sweet myself!"

"At least you've got a dad! At least your uncle doesn't -" Charlie didn't even have the words to say. Nothing would sound good, nothing would sound tough.

"Charlie," Mac softened, but not backing down. "This isn't a competition. We've always stuck together. Why have things changed?"

"Can't you tell? It's him!" Charlie pointed to the exit of the passageway. "Your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Well you sure want him to be! You think I don't know? I've told you everything and so have you. Maybe not with your words but come on dude. Stop lying to yourself. You're gay!"

"I am not gay! Don't tell people I'm gay!"

"And if Dennis is the man you want, so be it. Just be honest with me!"

"Don't tell people I'm gay!"

"You're gay! You're gay! You're gay!"

"That's rich coming from you!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're the one whose been fucked by a guy!"

Charlie was shaking. His eyes were full of sparkling tears. His nose was running. He looked like he'd been in a physical fight, rather than a verbal one. Mac was panicked. His heart and brain were fighting each other, conflicted on whether he regretted saying that or not. 

Charlie tried to speak. He was gesturing with his hands as he would if words were coming out but they weren't. 

"Get out," Charlie croaked, his throat was rock solid. Charlie was never this quiet. "I mean it Mac. Don't ever fucking talk to me again. Don't you ever fucking look at me. Get the FUCK out."

Mac backed away facing him. 

"Don't call me gay."

Mac bumped into something solid. He turned around. Dennis was stood in the passageway entrance. He'd seen the whole thing.

"Who fucked Charlie?" he smirked. 

Charlie couldn't remember the next five or ten minutes. He'd ripped Dennis' shirt. He was no longer in the school. He'd heard those kids laughing. He'd heard a car beep. He was exhausted and he was far away. He didn't know where he was. His throat hurt from screaming. He couldn't remember what Mac looked like.

Charlie looked at the sun. He didn't care about getting blinded. The sun who had always told him he was safe, that the bad people were gone. Why had it lied to him? 


End file.
